


Dragon Age II Prompts

by R3n



Series: Dragon Age II prompts [1]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Blood and Gore, Cutting, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Lazy Mornings, M/M, Mild Gore, Other, Post-Dragon Age II, Reflection, Smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-12
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-06-09 05:29:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 1,760
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15260442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/R3n/pseuds/R3n
Summary: A collection of fics about Dragon Age II. Will be updating as I go along. All drabbles can be found on my tumblr.





	1. 1. Fenris x M!Hawke (Fluff) [Early Morning Reflections]

    In the brilliant orange hue of the morning shadows that cast themselves into the room, siphoned by the drapes that clung lazily to the wall, Fenris’ eyes opened slowly, groggily. The room sat in a comfortable lighting, just enough to allow Fenris’ gaze to rake across the body that lay underneath him.  
  
    It was the scars that came to his attention first, the ones that climbed along Hawke’s forearm. They were all so red, so burning and angry against the skin that held them, it was a wonder that they had ever healed at all. They were deep, those cuts. They were heavy. They were scars earned from blocking, shielding his friends against the opponents that dared to try and run them through. It never worked out for them.  
  
    It barely worked out for Hawke, too. Fenris, even in his dreamlike daze he could lazily recall the arguments he had with Hawke: mages shouldn’t be in the front, _you’re ranged, you can’t block!_ Hawke would laugh when Fenris said that. He would clasp his hands around Fenris’ and grin and say that he knows, but _It’s so much more fun that way._  
  
    And it wasn’t long before Fenris started to believe him.  
  
    Hawke could be tough when he needed to be. Ruthless. Focus the rage that plagued his veins when fighting into a deadly slash or blow with his energy. There was never a fiercer time to be alive than to witness the fire in Hawke’s eyes burn, to know with absolute certainty that something will be done, something will happen, and it will be by his hand alone. Fenris’ eyes flicker away from Hawke’s scars, his thoughts trickling away as his lover’s face came into view. There was no strain on Hawke’s face, no pull of his eyebrows or strain on his cheeks- there was only content, it seemed. A relaxed, almost slack look that gripped Hawke’s resting features, covered by matted and swirled hair of dark brown and grey. Fenris takes a moment more, yawning as his mind took in the sight of Hawke’s peaceful face. He takes care to gather himself and re-adjust against his lover’s chest, exhaling happily as he drapes the covers back over himself and Hawke once more.  
  
  
    ...But Hawke could also be just as soft as he wanted to, as loving and as careful. His heart does not pump adrenaline in these quiet moments, instead it simply beats to the rhythm of his own making; it is steady. There is no ferocity here, no determination, no fire that rages in Hawke’s eyes. Instead, there is only a brilliant orange hue of a soft and glowing light, casting itself onto morning.


	2. 2. Isabela x F!Hawke (Smut) [Ace In The Hole]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hawke and Isabela decide to up the stakes of a game of Wicked Grace, but didn't anybody ever tell Hawke that a pirate never plays fair?

“You...you cheated!” Hawke says with a gasp, pulling away from a shared kiss, “the last time we p-played- played- _ooh…”_ __  
__  
“Careful now, Hawke,” Isabela smirks, her fingers still rutting away against the sweet spot she’s come to know so well in between Hawke’s thighs, “people might hear you.”  
  
It was true; the dark alleyway that was stashed away behind The Hanged Man was hardly a place for discretion. People came and went in a hurry to the cheapest bar in town. If Hawke cared enough to pay much attention, she could hear the ruckus the crowd was causing. Hopefully it would be enough to hide her moans.  
  
“Iz…” Hawke whimpered, clinging desperately to her lover’s body, rubbing her own breasts against Isabela’s, aching to quench the heat that now burned in her core, “...you- _mnph_ \- you-”  
  
Isabela raises her eyebrow, pumping her fingers into Hawke faster, her lips finding her neck to suck, lick, _bite_ the crux, earning a longer and more drawn out moan from Hawke’s almost-quivering figure. Isabela doesn’t stop her assault just there, however, as she starts to trail her nips and kisses _down_ , unrelenting and loud and _beautifully_ brutal.  
  
To the victor go the spoils- and oh, Isabela thought excitedly, wasn’t her reward sweet? One game of naughty bets of Wicked Grace and she’s fucking Hawke in the back of an alley, letting every passerby hear just _who_ is the one that can treat The Champion _right_.    
  
Hawke accepts it. She opens her neck towards Isabela, puffs her chest and _sobs_ out praises as she grinds into Isabela’s fingers, covering them in her juices as the adrenaline burns and lust tightens in her gut,  
  
“Iz-oh, oh p-please, please, fu-!” Hawke stutters out babble, and Isabela grins wickedly at the sound of her name. Isabela follows Hawke’s cries, plunging her fingers deep into Hawke’s heat, feeling her lover’s body tighten and flutter around her fingers, her heart blooming at Hawke’s sobbing cry as she came.  
  
Isabela’s nips and biting slowed, but her fingers were still left firmly in Hawke’s folds as she rode out her orgasms. Hawke’s moaning turning into soft gasps, her breath becoming quick, yet steady gasps,  
“You...you cheated, Iz,” Hawke repeats again, though there was only amusement to her tone, a knowing smile appearing on her glinting face, “you didn’t have...have an Angel of Death,”  
  
“Mmm...I know,” Isabela doesn’t waver at the accusation, instead going to kiss Hawke on this lips this time, deeply, sincerely, “but I’ve always been a bit of a sore loser anyway.”  
  
   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been awhile since I've written smut~ been trying to dust off the writing chops. 
> 
> Wanna request something? Follow my (newly created) tumblr! ----> https://rennywrites.tumblr.com/


	3. Merrill x F!Hawke (Fluff/NSFW) [Under Her Fingernails]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some people never learn. Hawke is one of them.

“ _ I-I-! Ooh…!”  _ __  
__  
Watching Merrill climax was a beautiful thing as it was dangerous. 

 

Her hair would be messy, bits and pieces clinging to the forehead that glistened with the sweat of sex. Her face would turn a bright, yet rosy red, dusting her cheeks and nose with a pink that Hawke couldn’t get enough of. Merrill would twist against the bedding, squirm and vibrate with lust and excitement as her body would tighten around Hawke’s fingers, further and further until  _ release _ . Her back would then arch high into the air, moaning and gasping Hawke’s name in praise,  _ yes, yes, H-Hawke, oh-! _ __  
__  
And all that would be left were her shuddering gasps of a dwindling ecstasy, a high brought to Merrill only brought on by Hawke. Merrill would fall slowly, almost glide down back into the bedding, spent and content. She would bring Hawke down with her, green eyes begging and pleading for a more innocent sort of comfort.  _ I love you.  _ __  
__  
And Hawke could only help but oblige. 

 

Merrill would find sleep soon after. Her chest had heaved until it would only rise to a steady beat, and the hand that clasped around Hawke’s so tightly in affection would fall slack moments later.

 

It was the sincerity that blindsided Hawke; the earnest in everything Merrill did or said to her. There were no lies, no games, instead there was only a warm and welcome quiet. Merrill’s love was flowers blooming in the new-spring rain, shadows dancing in the candlelight, a soft passion that is rooted in subtlety. Stability. 

 

But that was the danger. That was the trap that Hawke always got caught in. No matter how many times Hawke tells herself to stay away, to hide her heart and soul from the hurt that love brings, she never listens. Merrill is worth that risk, worth the hazard of loving, worth the uncertainty that this time,  _ this time _ , Hawke won’t lose her. Things will be better. 

 

And different. And whole, like Merrill’s love; blooming flowers in the new-spring rain. 


	4. 4. Fenris x F!Hawke (Fluff/angst) [Promises, Promises...]

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [Pre-Inquisition, Post-DA II] 
> 
> Hawke gets the blues sometimes, and Fenris has to remind her of some things.

She didn’t want to go. 

 

Not really, anyway. 

 

Her bags sat packed against the door, the fire flickering their shadows against the wall. The dark shapes that morphed against the flames felt ominous. Foreboding, even. Unsure.   
  
  
“Do you ever think about how things will end, Fenris?”   
  
She asked it loudly without wavering. Her eyes were still fixated on the shadows of the luggage she was to carry soon.   
  


The elf in question frowned, looking up from the book that had caught his eye,   
  
“In what way do you mean that, Hawke?”   
  
“I mean,” Hawke starts, her eyes closing as she forced a sigh, “I mean all of _this_ , Fen. I’m tired of moving, _tired_ of waiting, _tired_ of forcing you to-”  
  
“No,” Fenris says curtly, cutting her off abruptly. He puts the book down and raises his eyebrows at her, “Wrong. You didn’t _force_ me to do anything. I came here of my own volition with _you_ ,”   
  
“And that doesn’t bother you?” Hawke questions, leaping of the rickety, wooden chair that she had sat in, “That you have to follow me here? That we’re squatting in the middle of the Maker-damned forest _because_ of m-”  
  
Fenris advanced towards her now, his movement swift compared to his speed. His hand finds her face, gentle and careful as he cups it, warmth sparking across his skin as he did so,   
  
“If you finish that sentence with ‘me’,” He chides quietly, his eyes hardened against her gaze, unwavering in his look, “so help me, Hawke, I will…”   
  
There was a pause; heavy, as it were. Their two bodies stood pressed against each other, the familiar tingle of a lover’s grasp comforting them both as the silence weighed in. Fenris despised the guilt that ate away at his love, he _hated_ the mornings where she would wake up with that vacant, morose gaze, unable to focus on any other thing besides he safety because _what good can come from loving a Hawke?_  
  
“You will what, Fenris?” She begs the question brokenly, defeat cutting through her tone more than anything else. Days like this never seem to get any easier.   
  
Fenris rests his forehead against hers, sparks rattling his core by the touch of her being,   
  
“...I will follow,” He finishes, commands. He speaks those words into existence as seriously as he tells her _I love you,_ “and I have no care for the 'where' of things Marian Hawke, what I care about is if I am standing beside you there.”   
  
She didn’t want to go. Back out onto the road, away from the eyes of the public that would be sure to recognize her, sure to cause trouble and chaos in her life when all she wanted was _quiet._

 

She was tired, but not broken. Not really, anyway. 

 

Not with him there, ready to stay. 


	5. UPDATE

Hi! I'm back crawling out of the depths of hell that was the passed few months of my life, and with a discord! It's not primarily DA based (though I'm a total fan and I'd love to talk about it with you!) but it's for chilling and chatting + gaming stuff (possible role-play too) and it's brand new! I'd really appreciate if y'all could come and check it out :) ages 16-21 only, please! Thank you!

https://discord.gg/gBAZGT

**Author's Note:**

> Heyo! Man, I've been wanting to do stuff like this for awhile. This drabble was posted on my newly-created tumblr found here ---> https://rennywrites.tumblr.com/
> 
> Feel free to send asks in from there <3


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